What a Life!
by Sarah's Scrawls
Summary: Carrie, an actress, meets some people she has always wanted to...
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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><p>Hi! My name's Carrie. Carrie "Mustang" Johnson. I'm 13 and an actress. But my movies are special. You'll see why later. My career started when I spotted an ad in the pape (newspaper to all you unenlightened folk) that said a studio was having auditions for a movie. I decided to try out. I didn't think I would make it, having no acting experience whatsoever, plus I'm not even pretty (in my opinion) and you definetely have to be pretty to be in a movie (e.g. Arwen, WOW!). Anyways, as you've probably already predicted, I got the part, beyond any of my wildest dreams. But, I had no idea who the director was, what the movie was about, who was going to be in it with me, etc. So you can imagine my shock and disbelief when I got a letter from Steven Spielberg saying I was to be in a movie with none other than Christian Bale! I was floored. Christian Bale! Seeing my favorite movie was Newsies, I knew I had to be (no, I WAS) the luckiest girl evah, y'heah? (Scuse m'accent) After I pulled myself together, a little, I was able to get my brother to drive me to the studio. What a surprise was waiting for me inside! Well,that's my introduction and my adventure(s) will have to wait for later, I've rambled on too long.<p>

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><p>Please read and review! Tell me if you think I should really start this, or, to quote Skittery, if "I seriously think we should forget about it."<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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><p>As soon as my brother dropped me off at the studio, I was surrounded by a swarm of people. One person led me to the dressing rooms to get on my outfit, another led me to the make-up room, and yet another led me to the actual filming room. I was surprised by how smooth and quick this was all going. As soon as I walked in the door at the filming room, I spied Chris across the room. He saw me and crossed over to say something to me. Me! I never heard what he said. Just then Steve came over to me to explain the movie.<p>

"You are Frank's little sister. You and Frank are living in New Jersey in 1898. He works for a coal company that just cut his wages, so he quits. This scene is of Frank coming in the door to tell you the wages are cut and he's gonna quit. "

Why did this sound strangely familiar?

We rehearsed the scene a few times, and then, apparently, Steve thought we were ready.

"Alright. Lights. Camera. Action!"

And we were off on the home stretch. Chris, I mean Frank, came in the door, just like we had rehearsed, and I realized I hadn't noticed his make-up before. Wow, they really could make him look 20 years younger!

"Did ya heah dat, Carrie? Dey cut ouh pay! We need dat money!"

"I know we do! What are you gonna do now?" Frank pondered this question. I was waiting expectantly for the "Cut!" that was inevitable, since we hadn't rehearsed past this part. But none came. I looked around at Steve, and gasped. There was nothing but wall behind me!

"Uh, Chris?" He didn't answer. "Christian?"

"Who ah ya talkin' to?" I breathed in sharply. No, no, no, no, no! This is not happening!

"Alright, Frank-

"Dat's bettah."

"-have you come up with an idea yet?" I asked.

"No I haven't! And you can just wait until I have!

"Ok, ok." I waited for a little bit. Then I decided to spring my idea. "We could be newsies!" I said hopefully.

"We could be- Carrie, what's a mattah wich you, youh mad!" I had to smile at the oh-so-familiar line. I was also puzzled at his reaction. Why didn't he want to be a newsie? And this meant my beautiful plan was spoiled. Maybe I was just overreacting. Maybe Steve was just right behind that wall. Maybe-

"But then again, we could check it out..."

"Let's go right now!" I shouted.

"Carrie-" Frank looked worried.

"I mean, we need the money, and we're not sure where it is, so we need to find it, and I hope we're not late because they wouldn't like it so-" I rambled on.

"CARRIE YOUH MAKIN' NO SENSE AT ALL!" Frank yelled.

"Sorry, I'm just a little excited."

"A little?" Frank snorted.

"Sorry." I looked down at the ground.

"Ok, we'll check dis thing out in da mouhnin'-"

"Yes!" I couldn't help it. I was too excited. Me? Be a newsie? Amazing!

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><p>AN This was a sample, so R&R please and tell me what you think. Even if you hate it.


	3. Chapter 3

When I woke up the next morning, I'd forgotten where I was. I looked at the clock. 6:30? I still had another hour before I had to get up! What had made me wake up? Just then I heard a

"Psst! Carrie! Since youh so excited about bein' a newsie, why ain't you up yet? I let ya sleep an extra houh." I popped up out of bed.

"What? An extra hour? I still got another hour before I - oh, Frank! I forgot! We're going to the Newsboys Lodging House today! Yippee! I'll be ready in five minutes."

"Yeah, shouh," muttered Frank. "Five minutes. I bet."

5 Minutes Later

"Hey Frank!" I shouted. "You ready?"

"No way. Youh ready? I don' believe it!"

"Don't believe what?"

"A goil got ready in less den ten minutes. Impossible!" Frank kept muttering even after we walked out the door.

I hadn't been outside since the 'movie' had started, and I was afraid that's what it was going to turn into. A movie. I was relieved when we stepped onto a bustling, cobblestoned street. Men with silk hats, suits and briefcases hurried by, as well as women in dresses who paused to stare at me, then shake their heads. You see, I was wearing pants and suspenders. As awkward as the stares made me, there was no way you were going to get me in a dress.

We passed the Horace Greeley Statue, and I had to pause for a minute.

"Oh my gosh, Frank! It's _the_ Horace Greeley Statue!"

"So?" Frank looked at me skeptically.

"The one you sang on!"

"Excuse me?" He gave me an odd stare. _Oh great,_ I thought, _more stares._

"I mean, it's, uh, the one I sang on." I lied.

"You sang on it!" Frank looked at me incredulously.

"Well, I was having a really good day..." I drifted off. Frank chuckled.

"You would." He kept chuckling until he was flat out laughing. I started laughing too, because the thought of me, singing on the Horace Greeley Statue... well, that was funny.

After walking in circles for about an hour, Frank looked at me.

"I thought you said you knew wheah dis place was?"

"No I didn't!" I snapped. Actually, I was a little bewildered myself. According to the movie, the Newsboys Lodging House should have been somewhere near the Horace Greeley Statue. At least that's what I'd thought... let's see; in Carrying the Banner, they ran out of the boardinghouse into the streets...where? I was going through all the boardinghouse scenes in my mind. At the end of Santa Fe, Jack was leaning on a lampost, across from the boardinghouse. Where had he been before that? In front of a lot of shops. Well that helped a lot. There were shops everywhere. Ok, let's go back to Carrying the Banner. They're in the streets, they're in the streets... Oh! The bakery! If I could find my way there, I think I'd know where to go.

"Frank, do you know where a bakery is?" I asked.

"Yeah, deah's one down on 53rd street."

"Could you take me there?"

"Why?"

"I think I'd know where I was." Frank looked at me dubiously.

"Ok, whatevah." I followed Frank as he twisted and turned down every street and alley (at least, it sure looked like every one) until finally I saw the sign, "Bakery".

"Oh, it's that way!" I laughed. Such a classic Gandalf moment! I led the way, until we passed Tibby's, and I realized how hungry I was. Plus, this was _Tibby's_! Going in, I noticed the wallpaper. _It really does look like my room_, I thought, because I'd redone my room to look like Tibby's. We found a booth, and I scanned the menu. Trying to choose, my eyes found the words _potatoes, olives, _even_ bacon, saurkraut_. I laughed inwardly. I decided, to keep with true Les style, to get a hot dog, then not eat it, wrap it in an article, and take it home. I did get a hot dog, but the other plans failed, for I couldn't keep myself from eating it.

After that nice little excursion, we resumed our trip. We reached our destination at quarter to two. Stepping inside, we were greeted by an elderly man with glasses.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

"Kloppman?" I actually had forgotten about him! He looked me over, and Frank gave me a nudge.

"How do you know him?" he whispered. I tried to think up a quick answer, but thankfully Kloppman saved me.

"Weren't you that girl that was running around in the streets?" he asked. I smiled. _Yes, _I thought sarcastically, _I am most definitely the only girl that runs around in the streets._

"Uh, yes sir, I was." I plunged in.

"What were you doing? You looked half-mad!" He chuckled. What had I gotten myself into?

"I can't remember right now. Anyways, I was wondering if we could stay the night." Just then a voice floated in from another room.

"Kloppman? You tell hah ta beat it. Dis is a News_boys _Lodgin' House, an' it ain't no place fouh goils." Racetrack? Why wasn't he selling papers right now?

"I'm afraid he's right, ma'am." Kloppman said apologetically. "This is a place for boys, not girls." I decided to trust my luck.

"Well, ya see heah, Sah, me bruddah wants ta be a newsies, an' I ain't goin' nowheah widout him, y'heah?" Kloppman studied me a while, then smiled.

"Y'know, that accent wasn't half bad." He eyed Frank. "I think we could find someplace for you two to stay, but just because I took a fancy to you." He tried to sound stern, but as I walked out, he smiled warmly at me.


	4. Chapter 4

Hey, sorry this took so long, but I am the worst procrastinator ever! I'll try to be quicker on my next one, but no promises. Thanks to everyone who has read this!

I own nothing.

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><p>If only an accent could get me as much as it did then, I might be doing okay! I only prayed Race would take as kindly to me as Kloppman had. He sure hadn't sounded happy when I'd heard him!<p>

Frank and I followed Kloppman up to the bunk room.

"Well, I hope you can find yourself a bed. I'm not sure how many are left." He chuckled as he walked out. Frank and I stood there for a minute, until Race emerged from his bunk muttering,

"Kloppman, I told ya ta-" He almost ran into me, but stopped abruptly just in time after looking up. He stood there for a little bit looking at me, then suddenly said, "I was just, ah, goin' ta tell Kloppman somdin," and walked away quickly. Frank menacingly watched him out the door, then turned to me and said,

"He shouh is one odd boyd, ain't he? I wouldn't have nuddin' ta do wid 'im if I wah you." I bit back a laugh. "So, what bed ya wan'?"

"It doesn't matter to me," I replied. "Take whatever one you want and I'll find another one." I was in a very agreeable mood, seeing as I was about to become a real-life newsie. How many times does that happen?

Well, that night, all the newsies came in after selling their papes. They were astonished that I knew who they were. For example, when Crutchy came in, I immediately called out his name. He looked at me, and asked how I knew his name.

"Well, I, ah, just kinda figured, y'know? I mean, crutch and all, it's kinda obvious." He wasn't fully convinced, but he let it drop, to my relief. Most of the other boys I managed to get by with a "I ran into you once" in various stories that they didn't remember.

Life at the boarding-house was far from boring. When there wasn't a fight, there were card games, arguments, and altogether fun people-watching. I love people-watching!

Frank and I were accepted almost immediately, and the boys even started looking up to Frank. After just his first few times selling, he became the master of misinformation ('scuse me, improving the truth.) As for me, I, ahem, could have used some help, to say the least. But of course a newsie works alone, much to my disadvantage.

Then, Frank went missing for 3 days. The boys were worried about him, saying it had to be the bulls. But one day, I found him down an alley, out of breath. I knew immediately what had happened.

"What happened?" I asked, just so I wouldn't freak him out by knowing exactly what had happened.

"I was in da Refuge, but I escaped. I climbed out da window. It really wadn't dat hahd, just it was a pretty long drop when I got to da end of da rope." I noticed he was limping.

"Frank, you're not safe," I told him. "Snyder's gonna keep-"

"Wait, how did ya know it was Snydah?" He looked taken aback.

"Well, I, ah, ah, I mean, it's, ah, not really hard to read through the lines, I mean, Snyder's kinda famous around here." I sent up a prayer that he would believe me. He did.

"But what am I gonna do?" He looked frightened for the first time since I'd known him.

"Oh, calm down Frank! It's not that hard! All you have to do is change your name. A good name, like…" I acted like I was thinking, but I was waiting for him to tell me what I was waiting for.

"David?" I almost choked.

"Wh-what? David? No! You can_not_ name yourself _that_!" Jack stared wide-eyed at me.

"Whaddi say? Why can' I call myself dat?" I then realized how much of an outburst I'd made.

"Oh, I'm sorry, it's just that I used to know someone named David who was really an-" I caught myself just in time "a jerk." I finished.

"Well, den, whadoyou suggest?" He said it a little sarcastically, kind of ticked off at how I'd blasted down his suggestion.

"Let's see, do you like the name Jack Kelly?" I watched as his eyes lit up.

"Jack Kelly," he mused. "Sounds just like a cowboy name, like someone who'd live in Santa Fe…" He drifted off, daydreaming about Santa Fe.

"Well, great, that's settled, you're now Jack 'Cowboy' Kelly. Now, need help getting back to the boarding-house?"

"Yeah," He answered, still lost in thought. And so the great Jack Kelly was born (not literally). From then on, anyone who even dared to utter his real name was given a soaking that they weren't soon to forget. I was glad, because I'd always called him Jack anyway, but then had to correct myself. This was so much easier.

One day, I woke up to hear Kloppman shout,

"Boots! Skittery, Skittery, Skittery!" Whose response you well know, and I knew: The story had begun!

Well, you know what happens, and of course I said nothing about what I knew. It was awesome to see the boys dancing in person. And Jack singing Santa Fe! Now, Jeremy Jordan is definitely a better singer, but Jack was amazing for having never sung before.

And finally I was in the crowd cheering on the dancing boys, and as the last little boy jumped, he seemed to hang in the air, then fall. So finally the strike ended, and I thought my adventures had too, but I was mistaken.

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><p>And, just in case you can't tell, this is going to be a NewsiesLOTR crossover. I hope this doesn't disappoint anyone!


	5. Chapter 5

Yeah, don't shoot me, I know I told you this wouldn't be too long to wait. Well, will it help that I'm giving you 2 chapters?

Disclaimer: I own nothing except Carrie, James and Morelen.

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><p>As soon as that little boy fell, I found myself in the movie studio. Apparently people had been crying because the movie was over. Not a few wondered why I wasn't crying. Jack, when I found him, was 38 year old Christian Bale again. I was astounded.<p>

Well, the weeks and months flew by as we prepared to film a sequel to that movie. As the appointed time drew nearer, I became more and more nervous and excited.

Then, one day, I learned that a person named James was to be my co-star. I determined then and there to avoid him at all costs. But, when I met him, he was nice, and romance didn't seem to be the first thing on his mind. Plus, if it had, Jack would have dealt with him. Therefore, I began feeling more protected and opened up a little more. I wondered whether I should tell James of my experience. But, recalling my conversation with Chris and he having no idea what I was talking about, I decided to let it drop.

On the day of our first shooting, while I was getting dressed, a thought hit me. This movie would be different. For, in the first movie, I actually knew what was going to happen. The only way for that to happen again was for us to do the first movie again. Now I was really nervous, and a bit afraid that that first movie was the only one that would ever become reality to me. Maybe that happened to every actor on their first movie, and maybe I was not special at all.

Well, the cameras were about to roll, and Steve said,

"Action!" And, oh joy! the movie was real again! James' mouth dropped open, and mine almost did.

"Uh, James, can you see this?" He mistook my question, thinking I was as bewildered as he.

"Where are we? Where is Steven? What happened?" He said it to himself, and was not expecting an answer from me. I gave one anyway.

"We're in New York." He looked at me pityingly.

"Yes, I know the studio is in New York. But I don't think we're in the studio anymore…"

"No, it's not _our_ New York." James looked at me curiously.

"Do you think we own New York? Yet, it does look different." I grew frustrated, and said heatedly,

"Well, hang it all, James! We're in New York! The year is 1899! Are you happy now?" He stared at me.

"_1899?!_" He didn't know whether to laugh, scold, or just look dumbfounded. He did all three: He laughed while scolding me yet he still looked shocked. I heeded him not. Spying Mush across the street selling newspapers, I called to him.

"Hey, Mush, get over here!" He made his way over.

"Mustang! Wheah ya been? We were-"

"Mush, what year is this?" Seeing his curious glance, I added hastily, "My friend here wants to know." Mush didn't lose his curious expression, yet he said,

"1899. Couldn't you tell him dat?" I chuckled, half at the question, and half at James face, which was too shocked to describe.

"Well, I don't think he woulda believed me." James had retrieved his voice, and he said,

"But, but, that's, that's not possible! How?"

"Apparently, when we start filming the movie, it turns into reality. Don't ask me how." Mush was thoroughly confused, and asked,

"Say what?" I shook my head.

"Later. Let's get to the boardinghouse now."

All the boys (Jack especially) wanted to know where I'd been. I gave the usual excuse, saying I'd had some unfinished business. When they pressed me further, I vaguely told them I'd had to take an unexpected journey there and back again.

As for James, well, that took some improving the truth. I decided on a story in which his parents died and I'd decided to bring him here and make a newsie out of him. James looked at me a little frightened, and I gave him a curt head shake to say that I knew better. He relaxed visibly.

James was totally out of it as far as selling newspapers went. I told Jack to show him around the next day. This did not please Jack at all. I mean, what brother would not frown upon a boy accompanying his sister?

One fateful day, before James had quite gotten the hang of selling papes, yet after his newness had worn off, I stood hawking headlines to passerby's. Hearing hoofbeats behind me, I turned to see a vegetable merchant coming towards me. He slowed, parked in front of a grocery store, and went inside. My attention wandered to the horse, and I caught my breath. He was beautiful! I was immediately reminded of Walter Farley's description of the Black:

'He was a giant of a horse, glistening black…His mane was like a crest, mounting, then falling low…The head was that of the wildest of all wild creatures – a stallion born wild – and it was beautiful, savage, splendid.' I'd never seen a horse that matched that description so accurately.

I made my way towards him slowly, almost fearing the same reaction from him that the Black had given Alec. But as I got nearer, he bobbed his head up and down, almost inviting me to come nearer. I reached out and stroked him. I'd heard of horses that felt like velvet, but I'd never actually felt it. I began to wonder if this might be the perfect horse.

"Morelen, I'd call you, if you were mine." He neighed softly, almost in agreement. I chuckled. "You're a beauty." I stroked him a little longer, then suddenly realized that I shouldn't be here when the merchant arrived. "Sorry boy, gotta go." I walked away just in time, for the merchant came out as I resumed my place at the street corner. He loaded up his cart, and then began to climb in. A sudden feeling urged me towards him, and I ran to him before he could drive away. "Excuse me, Sir." He turned to me.

"Would you be wantin' somethin'?" He asked, not unkindly. I nodded.

"Would you sell your horse?" The man jumped as if shot.

"You mean it? I've been trying to sell him for months now!" I quickly handed him my pape money, he quickly took it, and we were quickly on our way. I couldn't believe my luck. My whole life I'd wanted a horse, and now I'd got one for less than two dollars!


	6. Chapter 6

Please correct me if I use any Elvish wrong.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except Carrie and Morelen.

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><p>You can imagine the newsies surprise when I came riding up to the boardinghouse on a beautiful black horse.<p>

"Man, Mustang, wheah'd ya get somdin' like dis?"

"Now I know why we called ya Mustang."

"Ah ya jus' gonna pick up every stray creatah dat walks in front of ya?"

"He's big."

"Is he fast?" This last comment coming, unsurprisingly, from Race. I decided to indulge Race.

"Yes, Race, he's fast." Race's eyes widened.

"Could he beat Son of a Gun?" Even though I didn't know who Son of a Gun was (and I'd inwardly cringed right before Race got to the last part), I said,

"I'll bet."

"Oh boy!" Race shouted. "Come on! We could find a cheap saddle and bridle fouh ya, den a jockey who'd ride him, I'm shouh one would, and I think deah's a race day aftah tomorrow, an'-"

"Race." I silenced him. "I don't think I'm gonna race Morelen." Race looked at me astonished.

"N-not racin' him? Den why in da woyld did ya get him?" This question stymied me for a moment. What would I do with him, now that I had him? A newsie on horseback might draw attention (and everyone knew I could take all the help I could get). But I had to give Race a satisfactory answer.

"I'm gonna use him to, um, to, um, well, I think I'm gonna get a, a-" But before I had to finish, Boots came running up (I hadn't even noticed his absence). He was waving his arms and, when he arrived, said, panting,

"You ain't gonna believe it! Theah's this thing, over theah, an', it's a kid, I mean, I think it is, it's small, but it talks like a grownup, an' it says it's a, a, hoofling? But it has feet, really hairy feet at dat, an' I can't tell if it's old or young, an' it has curly hair-" I wheeled Morelen around and kicked him into a gallop even before Boots could finish. A hobbit? Here? But, how was that possible? Well, I guess in a movie turned reality, anything was possible.

I urged Morelen faster. I had no idea where I was going, but I had a feeling Morelen did. Indeed, he almost threw me off as he skidded to a halt inches away from Frodo Baggins. The hobbit's arms were thrown up, shielding him from what he thought was an imminent collision.

"Gandalf's beard!" I cried. "It's Frodo Baggins!"

Frodo's POV*

My first impression of this girl riding madly towards me (whom I thought would surely be my death) was a muddled jumble of Rohan, Elves, Elanor, and, strangely enough, Sting. Why these thought ran through my head I shall never know. As for her calling my name while mentioning Gandalf, well, I was surprised, to say the least.

She wasn't the prettiest Elf I'd ever seen, though maybe had she been mortal she would be considered comely. She wore clothes not fitting for any young lady to wear, and I was sure no one I knew could testify to seeing such. I really couldn't think of a single Elf maiden I'd met who would wear such things.

"Mae Govannen*!" I called. "Would you mind telling me where I happen to find myself?" She clambered down from her horse (a little ungracefully, and therefore the thought of her having Elven blood began to waver in my mind) and approached.

"Why did you just speak to me in Elvish?" She asked. "Pedich edhelen*?" So she was an Elf.

"Mye*," I replied. "O mon dor tuliel le, hiril-nin*?" She looked at me strangely.

"Hiril-nin? Who do you think I am?" I grew bewildered.

"My lady, you are an Elf, are you not?" She burst into laughter.

"An Elf?" she choked. "Me? An Elf? Do I seriously look like an Elf? Look at my ears. Are they pointed? No! And am I pretty? No!" She laughed harder. I studied her horse to make sure I wasn't seeing things.

"My lady," I said. "Only an Elf woman would have a horse like yours, a Mearas." Her eyes grew round, and then she sighed.

"I should have known, the way he seemed to know things any other horse wouldn't know. Well, that explains a lot." I shook my head.

"So you aren't an Elf? Are you a Wizard?" She shook her head and smiled.

"No, I'm just a plain old human. Though I am flattered that you mistook me for an Elf. Geheno nin lalaith*." I accepted her apology.

"As I was saying," I began.

"As for finding yourself, are you sure you aren't lost?" I tried to puzzle this out. Seeing my confusion, she clarified herself. "You asked me if I happened to know where you'd found yourself, and I ask you now: Are you sure you haven't lost yourself?" I laughed as I understood her riddling question.

"Well, yes, I suppose I am a bit lost." She laughed (She seemed to do that a lot) and said,

"A bit? I think you're a good deal more than 'a bit' lost." How did she know that?

"Yes, yes, I haven't the faintest idea where I am." She smiled kindly.

"Avo asto*. We are in a, ah, a different world. It's past your time. I mean, it's in the future. Well, it's, kinda, hard to explain." I understood little of what she meant. She stared at me for a long while, and I grew uncomfortable. "I'm sorry," she apologized. "It's just so awesome to see a real, live hobbit in front of me! And not just any hobbit, but Frodo Baggins!" I was awed by her admiration.

"You mean to say, you've heard of me, in a different world?"

"Well, I mean, you only destroyed the One Ring and saved all of Middle Earth. But, actually, until a friend of mine came running up saying there was a short kid with hairy feet, I thought you were just a character in a book, or an actor in a movie."

"A movie?" I asked, having never heard the term.

"Moving pictures." She answered briefly. Again she observed me, and I realized she had a piercing gaze. But it wasn't an unbearable type of piercing. It was a type of gaze from which you couldn't tear your eyes away. It was not unpleasant. At length, an abrupt sound broke her stare and brought our attention to a narrow street between two buildings nearby.

*Frodo told me this after our adventure.

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><p>1 Well met<p>

2 Do you speak Elvish?

3 Yes

4 From what land do you come, my lady?

5 Forgive my laughter

6 Fear not


	7. Chapter 7

I really had no idea I was going to write this much for one chapter. I'm really hoping I didn't just ramble on and on and bore you to death. Usually, though, my problem is that I'm too abrupt, so rambling would be a refreshing change.

I own nothing except Carrie and Morelen.

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><p>My (Carrie's) POV<p>

A deafening bang nearby quelled my observation of Frodo. Frodo Baggins! I still hadn't quite gotten over the shock of meeting him. We hurried over to the alley from which had come the noise. It quite took my breath away to come face to face with Samwise Gamgee. Shock upon shock! What other shock would I come upon this shocking day? Sam was surprised to see me. But when he spied Frodo behind me, he opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was

"Mr. Frodo!" in a choked whisper. You see, (I found this out later) Frodo had sailed across the sea two years ago. Sam didn't think he'd ever see him again. They embraced, and I moved away to let them have their reunion alone. Then a thought occurred to me. I'd found Morelen about two miles from here, and Sam and Frodo had been within 30 yards of each other. But more were coming, I knew it, and we didn't know where.

"Sam! Frodo!" I shouted, hurrying back to the alley. "We've got to get back to the boardinghouse and send out newsie scouts to find the rest of your party." They both gave me a questioning look, so I began to explain all I could to them on the way to the boardinghouse. I caught myself halfway through the explanation, realizing that if I told this lengthy tale to every member of the party separately, I would be telling it many times. Therefore, I finished for the hobbits with an abridged version, promising an in-depth story later.

I burst into the boardinghouse, getting all the newsies' attention. Even Race and Kid Blink, who had been busily engrossed in a game of poker, looked up.

"Whatsa mattah?" came from all the newsies in variation. I'd left the hobbits outside, for fear of them drawing the attention away from my urgent message.

"Okay, boys, I need y'all to do something for me." They willingly agreed, most having sold their papes for the day and looking for more excitement. "There's some people coming, but I'm not sure where they're gonna be. I need y'all to be at different places, and report if you see anyone strange looking. Oh, and be listening for a bang." This pronouncement was met with silence. No one knew what to say. They took their orders silently and moved away. I gave them all walkie-talkies (having been here before, I'd packed a bag with everything I thought I'd need). They looked at this thing in their hand with wonder. After they'd all filed out, I went outside and retrieved the hobbits. "Alright, let's go. We're going to be patrolling Central Park." The hobbits being so small, Morelen easily took all three of us.

We had just gotten comfortable with the park when a bang erupted and Mush's voice came on the line at the same time.

"Hey, Mustang? I see dis really small, really coyly haihed thing ovah heah. It really matches Boots description of dat thing this moynin'." Another hobbit. Which one this time? I radioed Mush back.

"Catch him before he can get away." I laughed because I had a feeling it was either Merry or Pippin. If it was, they needed catching. I decided to check out the bang I heard. It had come from underneath an apple tree a few yards away. When we arrived, there was Pippin staring up at the tree as if he had no idea as to what had happened to him. Hearing us, he turned and saw Frodo. His reaction wasn't much different from Sam's. I hated to rush them, but I wanted to see Merry.

"Hey, can we go see Merry?" That got their attention, and we all trooped towards 48th Street where Mush had been sent. We came upon the scene of complete chaos. Mush had called Kid Blink and Jack over to help him catch Merry, but Merry evaded them all. Pippin spied him, and tried to join him. I barely managed to catch Pippin by the back of the shirt, therefore keeping the street from becoming even more chaotic.

Finally, the three of them had Merry cornered. I think they scared him a great deal, for when they came at him, he started swinging with all his might. It was kind of cute (of course I never told him that). Jack had a black eye the next day. Before things got out of hand, I hurried over to the boys and Merry, bringing the hobbits with me. The sight of them, unharmed, calmed Merry tremendously. In spite of their well-being, he eyed me warily.

"Sorry," I told him, "Don't have time for introductions now. Gotta take care of something." I'd caught Jack's eye, and he was about to have an outburst. Before he could erupt in front of the hobbits, I pulled him into a nearby store.

"I sweah he tried to kill me!" he shouted. I hushed him, hoping the hobbits hadn't heard, then answered simply,

"Of course." This took Jack totally by surprise. He stared at me for a while, stunned, then finally gathering his wits, he said,

"And you expect us to put up widat little devil?" I grinned, knowing Jack would have to put up with _two_ little devils, and I knew that he wouldn't be happy. He continued. "What is he, anyway?" I was about to explain, but thought better of it. When everyone had arrived, I'd explain everything to everyone. "He's gonna be a nuisance! And how do we know da rest ain't gonna be like him? Deah's no way I'm gonna go an'…." I let Jack rant on, smiling and nodding the whole while. When he had finally finished, I steered him back outside.

"Now Jack, I want you to be nice to him, and-"

"Don't you _daih_ 'now Jack' me!" I shut up. Jack swaggered off, in the opposite direction of Merry, and as he did so, a voice came through my walkie-talkie.

"We got somethin' heah. Ain't shouh what it is, or if you'd be interested in it. It looks kinda dangerous." It was Skittery. I'd sent him to Brooklyn, possibly to enlist Spot's help.

"Describe it for me, Skits." There was a moment's silence on the other end (he'd never liked my name for him) then finally he reported,

"It's a grown man wit long black haih, an' he's got a swouhd, an' maybe a knife, an'-"

"What da HECK is dat?!" came Spot's voice through the receiver. _Oh bad, Spot and Aragorn are not going to get along at all._ I had to get there fast, or things could go terribly wrong. I considered calling Jack, but decided he would only make things worse. I had to go alone.

I actually ran to Brooklyn. I'd sent Skittery to the Bridge, and I hoped I wouldn't have to run all over Brooklyn to find him. I was relieved to find him still where I'd ordered him, but that relief was short-lived. The scene I came upon was comical, yet alarming. Spot had one of Aragorn's arms pinned down, and Skittery reluctantly had the other one. Aragorn had a few bumps and bruises, but wasn't much worse for wear. He had been taking it lightly, just two young boys, but if I hadn't appeared, I really think he would have shown them who was boss. I almost wish I had stayed away, just so I could have seen Spot's face when Aragorn got done. Oh, the joy it would have brought me!

Skittery took our arrival as the cue to let go of Aragorn's arm and Aragorn didn't have much trouble making Spot let go of his other.

"Skittery, Spot, over here." Skits came obediently, but Spot planted his feet stubbornly. I gave him a look that would have withered a flower in a split-second, while saying quite firmly, "Spot, _here_." It took him a minute, but he finally came where he was told. However, it was not without saying as he passed,

"You ain't hoid da last from me about dis." We'd never really gotten along well with each other. I tolerated him, at best, and I don't think he even tolerated me.

"Ok, you two, get along back to the boardinghouse. I'll be there in a little while." Skittery smirked, and said,

"First, lemme make a little love ta dis strange guy I ain't nevah seen." Spot actually smiled for the first time since I'd known him. I waved them off with a smile, knowing they both knew I would never do anything of the sort.

Finally, I turned my attention to Aragorn. He had gained his footing by now, and stood watching us amusedly. I apologized for my friends' course behavior, but I didn't try and make excuses for them.

"Some people think" (_or don't think_) "that they must impress others, no matter the cost. And since you arrived, I suspect he doubled his efforts." I took the implication with a smile. Boy, he really had a lot to learn about us.

"I'm sorry, but the facts are that we barely tolerate each other, and there's no way getting around it." Aragorn just shook his head and smiled. Really! I opened my mouth to ask him about Arwen and Eldarion, when suddenly he grabbed his side with a,

"What in the name of Elbereth was that?"

"What's a matter?" I asked concernedly. Just then, something stung my hand. What in the world…? But even as I thought it, I realized what had happened. I turned just in time to see Spot's smirking face disappear around the corner. That little…! Hearing a chuckle behind from Aragorn, I turned towards him. But before he so much as opened his mouth, I knew what he was going to say. I clenched my fists.

"Didn't I tell you he would double his efforts?" How could one person be so blind and darn annoying?! I began feeling that even Merry and Pippin couldn't provoke me more thoroughly. I growled at him. "Oh, so you return the affection?" Oh – My – Goodness! Now I knew that the dirtiest prank the cousins could play on me would be as delightful as 'Water Hot poured down the back' after this! ARGGHH! I began walking away, quite fast. Seeing this, Aragorn called,

"My lady! I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that, even in jest. Please don't go away angry!" He hurried after me. I paused and grumbled,

"Who said anything about leaving? Aren't you coming with me?" He searched my face.

"Is that an invitation?" I hadn't meant it to be, thinking he would follow me anyway. Plus, yes, I guess it was an invitation, since we needed the whole Fellowship at the boardinghouse. I shrugged.

"I suppose." He beamed and followed.

"I would be delighted. And, you have my word, that topic will not resurface again." By the time we reached Manhattan, we were chatting like old friends.

"Have you seen Merry and Pippin recently?" I asked.

"Yes," he replied. "Two months ago, to be exact."

"I've seen them recently too."

"Oh?" His eyebrows rose in interest. "So you know them?" I chuckled.

"Yes, I know those rascals." He laughed, and began to relate his most recent incident with them to me.

"Well, I don't have time now to tell all, but still, this may take a while. I have a friend, Merry and Pippin's cousin, actually. Well, he inherited a ring. It was a magic ring, but it was also the One Ring. He had to destroy it. So…" I realized where this was going, and stopped him before he could go on.

"And, what was the incident you had with Merry and Pippin?" He saw that I didn't want to hear a lengthy tale.

"Oh, to sum it up, the Ring was destroyed, and I became King of Gondor." He paused, possibly to see if this would impress me. As it didn't, he continued. "I live in Minas Tirith, and I have a beautiful garden. One day, I was walking in the garden, trying to relieve myself of the pressing business of my authority. Unbeknownst to me, Merry and Pippin had arrived in the city just the day before. Well, here I was, just minding my business, when out of nowhere a –" So engrossed was I with his story, that I was paying no attention to where I was going. Just at the climax of his story, I ran into someone. I turned quickly to say sorry, but when I saw who it was, I cried,

"Gandalf!" Aragorn's story went the way of Numenor. He stared at Gandalf.

"Mithrandir! But, I thought you sailed…?" I, too, had thought this. Of course, I thought Frodo had sailed too. Gandalf huffed,

"Of course I sailed! And quite restful were those days in Valinor, too! And just when I thought my time at Valinor would never end, and I could live in peace forever, the Valar came to me to say there was a world in trouble, and it needed a Wizard to help it. And of course they chose me!" But, though he tried to cover it, Gandalf smiled when he saw Aragorn, and he was secretly glad to have another job to do. Presently, he grew grave. Turning to me, he asked,

"But who are you?" He eyed Aragorn over my head, asking mentally, _Is she trustworthy?_ Aragorn answered for me.

"I haven't known her for long, but from what I have perceived, she is honest and dependable." I warmed at the praise. You don't get much at the boardinghouse. "What her name is, though, I don't think I heard." They both looked at me questioningly.

"Mustang enedh nin," I replied, bowing, though I wasn't sure if a bow was the right thing to do at the time. Gandalf started, and I feared it had been a mistake.

"You spoke Sindarin?" Thankfully, it wasn't my bow that startled him.

"Yes, Sir," I replied. Aragorn watched Gandalf, wondering why he was surprised at someone speaking a well-known language (or so he thought). Gandalf explained:

"The Valar told me that this was a large world, and only two people may possibly know any form of Elvish. Besides you and I, of course." I realized that Lord of the Rings was not to be published for another fifty-four years, and therefore no one could possibly know Elvish. If there were two people who may know Elvish, who was the other person? As I thought this, I realized that J.R.R. Tolkien was eight years old right now. Could he, at such a young age, already be conceiving the beginnings of his future book? That is what you call a genius!

Just then, static began to come through my radio, and a voice (Jack's) said,

"I promise you, dis thing is a dwouhf! I ain't lyin'! It's shouht, got a beahd, an' an axe, an' it's stocky, an' – I sweah I ain't lyin'! It's -"

"Jack, I believe you," I said. Then turning to Gandalf and Aragorn (and not failing to notice their utterly stunned faces) I announced, "Well, we've got Gimli." This only confused them more, and I received the same puzzled looks the hobbits had given me. I'd begun to get used to it. Seeing that only an explanation would suit them, I said, "Your members of the Fellowship of the Ring are all coming to this world at different times and places. Gimli just arrived, therefore we have left Legolas and Boromir." Gandalf, still not quite sure what I meant, but catching more than Aragorn, said,

"Well come, let us give Gimli a warm welcome." I nodded and led the way.


	8. Chapter 8

So, I actually penned this over 5 months ago. Therefore, don't judge me. I have 5 more months experience now.

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><p>We were met with many stares from the crowds we passed through and by, and especially from the newsies. You must imagine the scene: a young girl, no more than 15 or 16 years of age, leading a middle-aged man and an elderly man. And had they known one was a wizard, and one was a king, we would have received more stares still.<p>

Upon reaching Jack's destination, the atmosphere was, unlike the rest of the Fellowship's arrivals, not uncomfortable. As Jack had known this thing was a dwarf, strange happenings had not been wholly unexpected. Also, Gimli's outgoing personality quickly put everyone at ease. I was relieved, and I believe Aragorn and Gandalf were too.

"Why, bless my beard! It's the Wizard Gandalf! And Aragorn!" hailed Gimli. They all embraced and chatted gaily together about old - and new - times. The hobbits emerged from the boardinghouse when hearing the commotion, thus only adding to the din. The newsies also added their voices, verbally wondering what the Fellowship was talking about.

Just then, two people pushed their way through the gathering crowd in opposite directions. One was Kid Blink leading Boromir, and the other was Legolas. I greeted Boromir first, then called,

"Legolas!" An expression flitted across his face of surprise and confusion as to who I was. "How did you know where to find us?" His confusion was replaced by concern.

"I arrived in this strange world merely half an hour ago. The Valar guided me here, not to mention I could have heard you miles away." He cracked a small smile, but it faded quickly. "Gandalf, the Valar have told me troubling tidings. Things go not well for this land. They need our help, and now. We must discuss these things immediately." All other talk had died down now, and the faces of all the Fellowship were grave. The newsies weren't quite sure whether to take this Elf seriously or not. I nodded.

"Let's get into the boardinghouse." Then, addressing everyone else, I announced, "Finally you will all understand what is going on." The newsies greeted this with a relieved and half excited, half fearful chorus of voices. Just then, James, waking from a nap, arrived outside in the midst of our chaotic group.

"Carrie, what is going on?" was what he greeted me with. I glanced at the hobbits. His glance followed mine, and when it landed on them, his mouth fell open. "H-h-hobbits?" I nodded, not hiding a bit of a smile, and proceeded to tell him,

"We're heading into the boardinghouse to begin the Council of El- Carrie." David (who had appeared out of nowhere) commented,

"Isn't 'el' a masculine article in Spanish?" Wishing to be a bit of a smart-alec, and wishing to puzzle David, I threw back,

"No, it's a neutral noun meaning 'star' in Quenya." I really hadn't meant to call myself 'Star Carrie', or 'Mr. Carrie', but no one (excepting the Fellowship, and James) would have had an idea what the Council of Elrond was.

We all trooped into the boardinghouse, and for the first time, it was completely silent, everyone waiting for me to speak. I've never spoken in front of people before, and for a moment I received a sickening wave of nerves. But I was put immediately at ease when I realized that I wasn't giving a speech, and I wouldn't be the only one speaking. I began by giving a synopsis of what was happening.

"This is the Fellowship. This is Gandalf" (he grunted) "This is Aragorn" (he bowed) "This is Boromir" (he bowed also, a little stiffly) "This is Legolas" (he also bowed) "This is Gimli" (he gripped his axe) "This is Frodo Baggins" (he bowed, earning a few grins from various newsies) "This is Samwise Gamgee" (he was unsure what to do, and just stood there looking uncomfortable) "This is Meriodac Brandybuck' (he bowed very dramatically) "And last, and least, this is Peregrin Took." He just smiled, my last comment lost on him.

I then told the story of the War of the Ring, with lots of help from the Fellowship.


	9. Chapter 9

Well, I was really at a standstill on this story, moreover, this is 2 years after I originally started it, so I've changed a good deal. Therefore, I'm summarizing the rest of the last chapter and fast-forwarding a few months later.

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><p>Can you believe this? Neither can I. Just imagine: I am surrounded by the Fellowship, and am on a journey with them. Maybe I should grasp the gravity of the situation, but I just can't yet! Okay, I'll explain what happened that fateful day, and what conspired in the Council of Carrie.<p>

After I finally convinced the newsies that they had to believe the Fellowship's story whether they wanted to or not, we got down to business. The newsies being spectators, it was mainly the Fellowship (specifically Gandalf, Aragorn, Legolas and Frodo) and I who discussed. We began by wondering openly why they were here.

In the midst of it all, I heard a very familiar sound, which I wouldn't be mistaken in saying that Frodo recognized too. It sounded as if a very heavy metal hit the ground. Looking quickly in the direction from which the sound came, I was able to see Jack stoop suddenly, and straighten, trying to look inconspicuous (which only proved to make him look _very _conspicuous). After some confrontation, I was able to get from him the One Ring. How he came by it is still a mystery he has not yet revealed, but the facts stood that it was here, in our world, after having been destroyed in Middle-Earth, and it was a threat. Jack's reluctance to give it up was proof enough of that.

This put a twist to our discussion. We were quite certain now why the Fellowship was here. Now we had to decide what would be done with the Ring (sound familiar?). It really had turned into the Council of Elrond! After much (at times heated) discussion, we decided upon a plan to start on a quest to destroy the Ring. The destination was undecided at the time, but we have since come up with the idea that the most evil object in the world should be destroyed, not in the most evil place, like Orodruin, but in the most wonderful place in the world. As this is an opinion, every person's answer was in opposition.

Jack said Santa Fe, Spot said Brooklyn (wouldn't that be nice, right down the street), I said Ireland, Race said Italy (and I never guessed he was Italian), and the Fellowship abstained from saying anything at all. As Jack was the Ringbearer, and his love of Santa Fe was widely known, we decided we would trek there first.

Therefore, here we are, ten days later, in Columbus Ohio. It's just the Fellowship and Jack and James and I. We still have a long way to go, but for the record, I am plumb tuckered out. And we still have many miles to go! Ah well, home is now behind, and the world is ahead. I'll remember that when the going gets tough. But for now… well, the hobbits are really getting annoying, and they're getting on Jack's nerves, so he's not fun to be around at all. Gandalf won't talk, Boromir and Legolas and Gimli argue constantly, Aragorn tries to break them up, and James is a complete jerk, I'm sorry. But he is! Sometimes I want to say exactly like Gandalf,

"I'm going to seek the company of the only person around here who has any sense: myself!" So there is my update on what's happening here. Having the time of my life, you know it!


	10. Chapter 10

This chapter I have literally been wanting to write for over a year and a half. The songs that Pippin sings I recommend you look up on Youtube by John Mcdermott. Obviously I do not own them.

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><p>The night of which I wish to write at this moment bears very little significance, except in memory alone. It was a night I look back upon fondly, when all was fun and adventure. It was, in fact, December the twenty-fourth, Christmas Eve. With our campfire glowing warmly, we passed tales and legends back and forth.<p>

"Too bad Santa Claus won't be able to find us out here," muttered Jack. This piqued Sam's interest.

"Santa Claus? Who is that?" Jack glanced over at me, at a loss as to how to explain Santa. I smiled, and patiently explained the story of the kind rich man, who would give people gifts, and especially the three daughters who had not enough money to get married. I explained how now people had idolized him, and characterized him as a rotund man with a white beard who gives children gifts. The hobbits thought this strange, and asked if we thought he was a god. I replied with,

"There's only one God, and I'm pretty sure He doesn't dress like that." James laughed out loud, but everyone else looked at me cluelessly. Ah, well, at least one person "understood that reference".

Then we all sang Christmas carols. I had to teach the Fellowship some of the classics, such as "Silent Night" and "Joy to the World". However, they caught on quickly, and we all belted it out together.

A real treat came when Legolas asked if he could sing an Elvish song. Of course I said yes readily, and a mood fell upon us as he sang. It was almost angelic, and I thought I knew what the shepherds felt when the angels appeared to them. Everyone was sad when he finished, even Jack. For a few moments after he finished, we all sat in meditative silence. Finally Pippin dared to break the silence, and said he wished to sing a traditional hobbit song. It was actually one I knew, called "The Holly and the Ivy".

The holly and the ivy,  
>When they are both full grown,<br>Of all trees that are in the wood,  
>The holly bears the crown<p>

Refrain:

The rising of the sun,  
>And the running of the deer<br>The playing of the merry organ,  
>Sweet singing in the choir.<p>

The holly bears a blossom,  
>As white as lily flow'r,<br>And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ,  
>To be our dear Saviour<p>

[Refrain]

The holly bears a berry,  
>As red as any blood,<br>And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ,  
>To do poor sinners good<p>

[Refrain]

The holly bears a prickle,  
>As sharp as any thorn,<br>And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ,  
>On Christmas Day in the morn<p>

[Refrain]

The holly bears a bark,  
>As bitter as the gall,<br>And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ,  
>For to redeem us all<p>

[Refrain]

The holly and the ivy,  
>When they are both full grown,<br>Of all trees that are in the wood,  
>The holly bears the crown<p>

[Refrain]

We enjoyed his immensely too, but not in the same way as we had Legolas's. I asked Pippin if he knew any others, and he said,

"Well, yes, there is one song that we sing in our family. I just call it "Christmas Memories".

The Christmas season here at last  
>I wish you peace and joy<br>I'll sing this song of times long gone  
>And pray you will enjoy<br>For the fondest memories I recall  
>Were on A Christmas morn'<br>When my dear father sang his songs  
>And Christ the King was born<p>

The songs he sang so loudly rang  
>Throughout our happy house<br>But when mother took her turn,  
>He sat as quietly as a mouse<br>The fondest memories I recall  
>Were on a Christmas morn'<br>How mother sang the sweetest songs  
>And Christ the King was born.<p>

I am my father's son you know  
>And I sing on Christmas day<br>I sing a song to days long gone  
>And those who've passed away<br>I have four children proud and strong  
>And they have children too<br>And on Christmas morn they sing along  
>Just like we use to do<br>The fondest memories we shall have  
>Take place on Christmas morn'<br>My children's children sing their songs  
>And Christ the King is born.<p>

It was a pretty song, which was a pleasure to hear. After he finished, we sang more carols. It was a simple, yet unforgettable night for me.


End file.
